


holding the peace

by maiaronan



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hiatus, Wedding, but it's not their wedding, im fine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2020-08-20 23:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20235883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maiaronan/pseuds/maiaronan
Summary: There's very little one can do to stop the most tragic love story of all time from playing itself out to the bitter end.(or, Scott is getting married and Tessa doesn't know what to do with herself.)





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! And I'm not okay!

Tessa wasn’t one for public speaking, no matter how many speaking events she’s attended during her 20-something year long career.

But talking about skating was relatively easy. It was personal, but impersonal at the same time. She perfected the script that would appease the reporters and hungry media sauvants. Dropping just enough hints to keep them interested, while keeping their attention off her true emotions. Talking about how hard she’s worked, and how important their teamwork and partnership was—

_Was_.

Tessa gritted her teeth and forced her frenetic mind to quiet.

It was just going to be like any other media appearance. Scripted, coupled with her dazzling smile and a show-stopping outfit to seal the deal. She was happy. She was—

“—estactic to see that you’ve found the love of your life,” she murmured to herself as she typed the sentence onto her laptop. That sounded genuine, right?

To be fair, the only reference Tessa had for wedding toasts were trashy romance movies and the few weddings she’d actually attended in real life. She suspected that the drill wouldn’t be much different at this wedding, but she couldn’t help but think that this was one where she shouldn’t bullshit her entire way through.

Maybe all this felt like bullshit because she’d never, ever, realistically, for even a second, thought that she would be writing a toast for Scott Moir’s wedding.

_18 MONTHS AGO_

The hardest part of being a world-famous ice dancer wasn’t the immense pressure to perform well or the insane training regmine or the physical stress of skating in a cold rink for hours at a time. No, it was having to get up at the crack of dawn every single day for two decades.

Tessa was not a morning person, and no matter how many times she’d force herself to get up at five in the morning, she was never getting better at it.

The first thing she did when she went into retirement was to allow herself to sleep in til 8 am (and sometimes, 9 or 10 in the morning—something Marie and Patch would’ve kicked her ass for back when she and Scott were skating competitively).

_Scott_.

All of this was to say that, the chance to sleep in was there, and oh so inviting, but the only time Tessa would’ve seen him was to get herself back on their training schedule.

Scott still kept to their old habits. He was up and showered by the time the sun was peeking through their curtains, filling their room with a soft, gray morning light.

_Their_ curtains. _Their _room.

Scott hadn’t meant to move in with her, but as with most things in their lives, it just sort of happened.

At first, staying over was littered with excuses — “Oh the rink is closer to your place anyway” — until the excuses had run out and he was staying just. Because.

Because she liked waking up next to him, enveloped in the warmth and reassurance that if she reached out, her fingertips would feel the smooth skin of his back and the warmth of his muscles as they jumped under her touch. Because she liked their sleepy, half-awake love-making as the dawn light filtered into the room. Because she liked their quiet breakfasts where she’d scroll on her phone in her pajamas while Scott made them coffee and asked her what she was looking forward to that day. Her initial answer varied, but in her heart she always knew it was getting to see him that night, to do this strangely domestic morning routine all over again the next day.

Because it just made so much damn sense, and it made her so damn happy.

Tessa never _really _had plans for her post-Pyeongchang life, except maybe do a few tours and ride the wave of fame for as long as it would last, but she’d always assumed that she and Scott would slide into a cozy, somewhat-modified partnership of sorts, much like what they had when they were skating, but just... different.

_A good kind of different_, Tessa would remind herself as she would slip into her coat and follow Scott into his newly-purchased white pickup truck. Did he really need a pickup truck, with all the convenience and luxuries of the money and status he had?

The answer was yes, because no matter how many medals hung around his neck and no matter how many pins he can place on a world map to indicate the breadth of their travels and experiences, Scott Moir was always going to be that Canadian kid in muddied jeans and a pickup truck blaring bad 80’s country music.

It was one of the things that kept her to him, in the times where Tessa felt so alone her heart could break. When she felt like everything she loved was so far away she could never reach them again, Scott was there. And him, just being _there_, was enough for her. He was always a piece of home, the earthly smell of the Ilderton soil in mid-July and the snow-covered pine trees of a Christmas family reunion. She frequently thought this to herself, and in that moment, thought it to herself again, that she would not be where she was if it weren’t for him.

She owed him so much. She wondered if he ever felt the same way about her.

Life was never bad for Tessa, but living between competitions and media events and always thinking about the next time she was going to be in the rink hung a black stormcloud over her head that drizzled cold rain from time to time. She was never quite free of the skating world, even when she and Scott had taken a “break” back in 2014, she felt the weight of her unaccomplished successes sitting in a near-distant future, just waiting to be unlocked.

No, life was never bad, but it was never ... like this. There was never room to breathe, like there was now. The little moments that she’d never noticed were all hitting her at once.

It was during one of those quiet mornings, while Scott was making them coffee and she was sitting there in her PJs, watching the water from his recent shower running down the sides of his face and dampening his shirt, when she realized she was happier than she’d ever been in her life.

It was a different kind of happiness. Different from standing on top of the podium at Pyeongchang with a gold medal sitting heavily around her neck. Different from the awards and recognitions and acknowledgments started pouring into her inbox. This was a slow, contemplative happiness that ran from her heart all the way to her fingertips.

She smiled.

Scott looked up from the bowl of cereal he was preparing on the kitchen counter. “What’s so funny, Virtch?”

Tessa blinked at him, the smile still on her face. Scott looked the same as he always did—albeit his ridiculous hair was getting even more ridiculous because he was refusing to cut it—but there was something about that particular day that made him particularly handsome. Was it the light? Was she PMSing? Was it the shirt he was wearing? That wasn’t a new shirt, was it—

“Tess, you’re freaking me out,” Scott said as he carried his bowl of cereal to their little breakfast nook. “Do I need to perform an exorcism before getting to the skate shop this morning?” He put a spoonful into his mouth. “I don’t think I’m qualified but I think I can wing it with some quick Googling beforehand.” He placed his hand on hers. “Tessa?”

Tessa snapped back to reality. She sat up with a small, embarrassed laugh. “Sorry.”

“What got you there?” Scott asked, returning to his cereal.

Tessa shook her head. The words she needed were still scrambling in her head, taking shape.

“Maybe you should go back to sleep,” Scott suggested. “All these early mornings are taking a toll on you, kiddo.”

Tessa shook her head again, this time in disagreement. “I like being up,” she said, drumming her fingers on her cheek as she looked at Scott pensively.

“Well that’s a first,” Scott said, the faintest shadow of a smirk beginning to form on his lips. “Alright.” He put his bowl of cereal in the sink and turned on the faucet to rinse it. “I’m off to the skate shop.” He grabbed his keys from off the counter and made way over to where Tessa was sitting. “Text me if you need anything.” His lips brushed her forehead.

Tessa gazed at him, catching the look in his hazel eyes as he pulled away from her. “I’m so happy,” she blurted out, suddenly, recklessly, without really thinking about it.

But somehow, it felt like the right thing to say.

Scott paused, a look of surprise concealing the delight underneath. Tessa could almost hear him scrambling for words in his own brain. “I’m glad,” he said finally, brushing her cheek with his rough, calloused hands. She held his hand there for a second, letting her own dainty fingers lace with his.

“That’s always what I want to hear from you,” Scott finished, giving her another kiss, this time on the lips.

“Are you happy?” Tessa whispered as he pulled away.

Scott pressed his forehead to hers. “Of course, kiddo,” he murmured back to her. “Of course.”

_PRESENT DAY_

The cursor on her laptop had been blinking at her insistently for the past few minutes.

Last line.

What could she possibly say?

Slowly, she reached out, placed her fingertips on the keyboard, and wrote out the only truth on the entire page.

“I wish you nothing but happiness.”

That had always been true. Always.


	2. two

_16 MONTHS AGO_

“Are you and Scott dating?”

Tessa looked up abruptly from the zucchini she was cutting. “What?”

Her mother looked at her with her “I’m serious, Tessa” expression as she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. “Are you and Scott... together?” she repeated, as if it was the most obvious question in the world.

Tessa felt her shoulders tense slightly. “We’re always together,” she responded as casually as she could.

“You two are sure spending a lot of... _quality_ time with each other,” Kate pointed out as she returned to the dish she was making. The pan sizzled.

Tessa laughed mirthlessly. “Mom, seriously?” She almost gave her a teenage eye roll to seal the sentiment.

“Seriously,” Kate repeated.

“Of course we spend a lot of _quality_ time with each other,” Tessa said impatiently as she began peeling the potatoes. “It’s our job.”

“Yes, but outside that,” Kate replied, level-headed as always. “I’m not going to pretend I haven’t seen his pickup truck parked in front of your apartment all the time.”

Tessa felt her cheeks flush. She opened her mouth to deliver a cleverly-thought out retort, but Kate had turned her attention to plating the dishes that were strewn out on the kitchen counter.

It was October. Crisp, cold October enveloped in the orange and reds of a cheerful Thanksgiving feast on the Virtues’ dining room table. The house was quiet now, but Tessa knew in a few hours it would be filled with her relatives, pouring in from all corners of the continent.

Tessa, for the most part, loved Thanksgiving. It was one of the few times during the year that she got to see her sister, her most favorite person in the world, and one of the few times she could eat her weight in mashed potatoes and turkey without feeling _too_ much guilt.

It was also one of the few times she could stop thinking about skating completely. Of course, that’s because there were inevitably other questions that come up in what Tessa called the “Post-Thanksgiving Grill”.

“Soooo Tessa...” one of her great-aunts began, in _that_ voice, and Tessa prepared herself for battle. “Are you seeing anyone _special_?”

Tessa was well-rehearsed in this exchange. She’d been doing this for years. For _decades_. It was no secret that pretty much every single member of the Virtue clan wanted to see her shack up with someone. And it was no secret that Tessa had resisted the notion every step of the way. Her excuse was always skating, focusing on her career, not having the time or energy to “be a good girlfriend”. That seemed to pacify them for the past 20-something years, but now that she was retired, “officially”, the questions seemed to come at her with _particular_ force.

“Someone special?” Tessa echoed, putting her hands on her hips playfully. “You know better than to ask me that question, Auntie.”

“I know, honey,” was the response, accompanied with the familiar sigh. “We can’t help being nosy. I know I just want to see you happy with someone. We all do!”

“Aw, leave Tessa alone!” Jordan declared loudly from the other side of the room, and they all laughed. And that was that.

They dropped the subject, but Tessa’s mind echoed with flashes and fragments of an answer she was struggling to put together. _Someone special_. She let her mind indulge in that for a second, and all she could see were Scott’s infectious smiles and the intense, burning adoration in his gaze every time he looked at her.

She could see the quiet mornings and the nights spent under the covers and every little thrilling moment in between. She was surprised at how vividly she could recall the smallest things, as if she’d unknowingly kept a detailed record of every moment that took her breath away.

And there were a lot of moments.

“Are we dating?” Tessa asked Scott later that week.

They were at the rink, lacing up their skates. Scott paused, caught off guard by her question. “Dating?” he repeated, as if he didn’t understand what the word meant.

Maybe he didn’t. “Yeah,” Tessa responded. “You know, the thing normal people do when they want to... commit to another person.”

Scott looked pensive as he returned to his lacing. “I don’t know,” he responded finally. “Are we?”

Tessa hadn’t expected that question in return. “I... I think we are,” she said pointedly.

“Huh,” Scott said. He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair thoughtfully. “And... is that what you want?”

Tessa felt the tiniest flash of irritation creeping into her thoughts. Not so much at Scott, but at the circumstances that put them here in this impossible situation, where neither of them ever figured out the tools to communicate about something like this.

“I think so,” Tessa said, keeping her same, level tone.

“Would that be a good idea?”

Scott had so many questions that Tessa was not prepared for. He must’ve noticed the confusion on her face, no matter how hard she was consciously trying to repress it, because his face softened with sympathy. Tessa felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him right then and there. But she didn’t. She _couldn’t_.

Why didn’t she? Why _couldn’t_ she?

The fear of keeping her image was still strong after all these years of compulsively shoving her personal life out of the limelight as much as possible. That was definitely there. Tessa was an expert at hiding. Hiding everything. Her emotions, her vulnerability, her needs and wants when it came to anything except a gold medal around her neck.

Her therapist told her it wasn’t healthy, which was a conclusion she’d definitely come to years ago, but Tessa saw it as the only way. If doing what she loved meant hiding _who_ she loved from it was the only way to keep both of them safe, then she would do it.

The thought of going public with any boyfriend was daunting enough, but the thought of going public with Scott scared the shit out of her. Would they ever be able to have some semblance of a normal relationship with the cameras on them _all the time_?

She felt Scott’s hand rest on her back. She jumped.

“You’re thinking hard,” Scott commented, amused.

“Just trying to come up with a good answer to your question,” Tessa responded with a thin smile.

Scott’s hand traveled from her back to her hand. His fingers curled around hers, tenderly. “Let’s talk about it then,” he said.

Tessa inhaled, trying to quiet her anxious mind. “Okay,” she said, turning to face him. “Are you sure you want to do it now? We do have to get through two and a half hours of practice today.”

Scott squeezed her hand. “Practice can wait a bit. This seems important to you.”

Tessa couldn’t help but look at him in surprise. “Isn’t it important to you too?”

“Yes, of course,” Scott reassured her. He looked away from her for a moment, out into the rink and at the skaters circling the ice. “I’ve thought about it,” he said finally. “I just didn’t know a good time to bring it up.”

Tessa swallowed. Her eyes were as wide as two moons. “Okay,” she said cautiously.

“Look, Tessa,” Scott sighed, running his fingers through his hair again. His nervous tick, that unfortunately just made him look even more kissable. _Stop it, Tessa, focus_, Tessa admonished herself.

“I’m old. I mean... I feel old.” Scott looked weary as he let go of her hand and leaned back against the bleacher bench behind them. “I’m sure you feel it too. We put our whole lives on hold for skating, and now that we’re finally out of it, it just feels like we’ve missed everything.”

“That’s not true,” Tessa said softly.

“I know, but it feels like it,” Scott murmured. “Everyone I know is already married and has kids. Sometimes, I want nothing more than to be there too. And you know this.” He set his serious gaze on her. “You always tease me for never shutting up about wanting kids and being a dad and all that crap. But it’s true. And I’ve never felt the need to have this part of me as strongly as I do now.”

Tessa felt her heart sink.

“I love you, Tessa,” Scott said, and Tessa wished she could stop time and rewind those three seconds so she could hear those words over and over again. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anybody. And I want to love you forever, in all the ways that I can. But I just...” Scott broke away from her again. “I just _need_ to do the family thing. I want to get married and have kids. I don’t think I’ll ever feel fulfilled if I don’t.”

Tessa could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I know. But you’re talking as if I don’t want those things,” she suggested, trying to keep her voice bright and optimistic. "I don't think marrying you would be the _worst_ thing I've experience in my life." She laughed, but Scott didn't.

Scott’s gaze swung back to study her seriously. “But you don’t want those things,” he said softly, confusedly. “You never did. You straight up told that reporter that you don’t have a maternal bone in your body. Isn’t that right?”

Tessa swallowed again. The lump in her throat was harder to push down this time. “How do you know that things won’t change?” Shit, her voice was breaking.

“Come on, Tess,” Scott sighed. “Don’t do this.” He shifted so their knees were touching. “You don’t have to pretend that this is something that interests you. And I can’t force you to do it.”

Tessa almost wanted to ask, “are you sure about this?” But it was almost a stupid question to ask. Of course Scott was sure about this. And she hated to admit that she knew all along. The reality of the truth that she wanted to avoid for all these years just... stung. So horribly.

Tessa let her thoughts wander for a moment.

For so long, she and Scott had one united vision. It was one that ended with them standing at the top of the Olympic podium, after creating a legacy of art and athleticism and perhaps, even solidifying their fame in the long walk of history. It was Tessa’s ultimate goal, and for the most part, she had imagined that her life would come together after she’d achieved that. Her vision for her future was blurry, but she had always expected that it would at least have Scott somewhere in it.

But it was no secret that, no matter how many memories and moments they shared, Tessa and Scott were fundamentally different people.

At a young age, Tessa knew that she was lukewarm to the concept of motherhood. Not something she vehemently rejected, but not something that factored into her future. She was happiest at her media events, putting on shows, going to school, learning about the world and herself. An introvert at heart, Tessa always wanted a life that she could keep to herself. Perhaps she’d have a husband someday, but the idea of bringing children into this world, into the spotlight of fame, and raising them under that scrutiny, was another thing that scared the shit out of her. 

She knew she didn't want it, at least, not for a long time.

Would it be fair to make Scott wait?

She hated that thought, but she couldn't help but let it creep into her mind.

Would things have been different if they had never made it this far in their careers?

Tessa was starting to realize, in that moment, that perhaps Scott had a different vision all along. Perhaps he’d _always_ known that his future after the podium would be a future without her. Scott had always wanted, _needed_, to be a father. It was clear in the way the little skaters in their beginner classes were magnetized to him, it was clear in the way he wanted each and every young person to feel the full force of his love and commitment to their upbringing, both as skaters and people. Scott was a mentor, a teacher, a father, and Tessa knew it would kill him if he couldn’t have kids of his own.

And who was she to take that away from him?

Blinking back the tears that had finally leaked out of her eyes, she resigned to the fact that yes, things would’ve been different if they’d never made it this far in their careers.

They probably wouldn’t even have liked each other.

“Come on, Tess,” Scott whispered as he wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Nothing has to be decided today.” He gave her a warm, enveloping hug that made her heart soar and ache at the same time. She let herself be embraced in his warmth and strength and scent. She let herself wonder why this couldn’t just be.

“Let’s skate,” Scott suggested after breaking out of the hug. He lifted her chin, smiling at her so brightly that Tessa had to smile back.

“Okay,” Tessa agreed.

“Remember, we don’t have to make up our minds on anything right this second,” Scott told her as he opened the door to the rink. He stepped onto the ice and glided away, motioning for her to follow him.

“Right,” Tessa whispered to herself, but deep down, she knew that things had already been decided for them, a long, long time ago.


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience with my slow updates! I'm trying to make more of a dent in this fic as Nanowrimo is going on. Fingers crossed! Also, thank you for all your lovely comments on the previous chapters. I read and appreciate all of them, even if I don't have the time to respond. Thank you again for your support!

Things were different that night.

Tessa couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but she could feel it. Something in the way Scott looked at her for the rest of practice, the way they packed up their skates and headed their separate ways to their locker rooms, and the way the air crackled and hummed on their silent car ride back to Tessa’s apartment.

Things were different that night, Tessa decided, as they did everything the same as they would have any other night. They had their dinner (Thai takeout from the little restaurant across the street because neither of them had figured out how to cook, even with all the spare time they had now in pseudo-retirement), and retreated to their own sides of the couch. Scott, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Tessa, trying to read her book but finding herself reading the same three lines over and over and over again.

She couldn’t concentrate. “Do you really think I can’t be a mother?” she asked. The question echoed back into her own ears. _Did I really just say that_? She hadn’t meant to just blurt that out, but the thought had been consuming her for the entire day, just churning around and around in her head.

Scott looked up, alarmed. He set his phone down on his chest as he peered at her with a furrowed brow. “Did I say I think that?” he asked, confused.

Tessa set her book down on the side table and hugged her knees to her chest. “Yes,” she said pointedly. “Today. At the rink.”

“Oh, Tess,” Scott sighed, abandoning his post and scooting closer to her. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Tessa asked as she allowed him to wrap his arm around her. She leaned into his reassuring embrace, letting the sensation of his scratchy, beard-stubble face linger on her skin as he kissed her on the cheek.

“I meant... I didn’t want to ask you for something you can’t give me,” Scott said.

Tessa pondered this. “What can’t I give you?” She sat up, pressing her knees into his thighs as she leaned in to kiss him affectionately.

Scott’s hand, which had been gently rubbing circles on her back, stilled. He propped himself up, looking at Tessa, thinking.

He was always so handsome. Even with his age showing through the streaks of white peppering his dark hair, the wrinkles under his smiling eyes, and the abs that he’d worked so hard to cultivate disappearing under his sweater, he was still Scott. Still the same Scott she’d fallen in love with all those years ago, boyish charm and all.

Scott pressed his forehead to hers. Tessa blinked and let his hands, body, his eyes capture her. Even after twenty-something years of looking at the same face, the same eyes, day in and day out, she never got tired of them.

She always wanted more of them. Of _him_.

“What _can’t_ you give me?” Scott repeated. “Well, at the moment, not much.” He kissed her again, insistent, his hands sliding up her shirt.

“At the moment, hm?” Tessa teased, lowering herself onto her back to help him in his endeavors. “That implies there’s a deadline for satisfaction. Shouldn’t you be bracing yourself for disappointment?”

“Never,” Scott responded, and then the words that came after that were lost in Tessa’s mouth.

They finished their nightly love-making to a full and comfortable silence.

“Maybe I don’t want to be a mother _right now_,” Tessa began slowly after a bit, wrapping her exposed body in a fluffy blanket, “but I can see myself having kids one day. With you.” She smiled at the thought.

Scott studied her. Did he seem wary? “When is one day?” he asked. He leaned back, observing her with cool curiosity.

Tessa shrugged, laying her hand on his bare chest, feeling his pulse jump under his skin. “One day is... not now,” she said. “Don’t you want to... just... I don’t know... travel the world? For real? Not for a skating competition. Not for the press. Not for any reason but to just... do it.” She sighed at the pleasant imagery that’d just popped into her head. “Live in Paris for a year. Eat bread and cheese like you don’t have to get up at 5 am and go to the rink everyday.” A playful smile tugged at her lips. “I want to write a book. Star in a movie. Walk a fashion show. Start a cosmetic line or, or... something. Go back to school and get like three different degrees. Learn how to do chemistry. Haven’t you ever thought to yourself, wow I wish I knew how stuff like chemistry works?”

“Can’t say I have.”

Tessa leaned back into his warm, comforting embrace. _I could stay like this forever_. “When you told me you feel like we’re behind on everything, I really felt it. I feel like I don’t know anything. Don’t know how to _do_ anything except skate. I feel like I’ve experience so much and yet, so little at the same time. We _never_ had a normal life. Well... maybe a normal life is overrated, but...” Her voice trailed off.

“But you’ve always wanted the chance to try it out,” Scott finished.

“Yeah,” Tessa murmured, gazing up at him through her long, mascaraed lashes.

“Although I’m not sure wanting to learn chemistry is a normal life.”

“Scott.” Tessa smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

“I’m going to make fun of you for the rest of your life for that one,” Scott insisted as he kissed her cheek apologetically.

Tessa laughed. “Okay, maybe it’s deserved. But I was just trying to make sure you got the picture.”

“I got it,” Scott said softly, running his hand through her hair.

A comfortable sleepiness was threatening to overtake them. Tessa glanced at the clock above the doorway. “Bedtime,” she said, yawning. The two of them dressed and made their way to the bedroom.

“And...” Tessa continued as she stood in front of the vanity beside their bed, pouring micellar water onto a cotton pad. “I don’t know. I guess I brought up the whole dating thing because... this is the first time I’ve felt like... we’re just two normal people. Being normal together. Doing that normal thing normal people do. _Dating_... normally. You know?” Her eye makeup began to form a satisfying, colorful blot on the white cotton.

“Huh,” Scott said thoughtfully, taking off his clothes and getting under the covers. “I guess I never thought of it that way.” He paused, propping himself up to look at her. “And...” He raised an eyebrow. “Did you want to keep doing all that... traveling and Paris and cheese and chemistry... _normal stuff_ with me?”

Tessa inhaled sharply. “Yes I do,” she breathed, wondering if her words sounded as enthusiastic as she felt. Her heart leaped at a million different thoughts and images conjuring up in her mind at once—her and Scott snuggled up on an airplane, traveling to somewhere they’d never been before, somewhere where they didn’t have to worry about skating. Her coming home to a romantic dinner with roses and candles after a long day at school, or at the office, or maybe from a long business trip. Her and Scott at the animal shelter, adopting the dog they said they weren’t going to get. Waking up to a foreign city skyline, but always feeling at home with the sensation of Scott’s hand in hers, by her side, always. “Normal stuff,” Tessa echoed, feeling happily warm inside as she let the fantasy linger in her mind.

She caught Scott shaking his head from the corner of her eye. “That just seems like the same of what we’ve always been doing.” His voice was gentle, but his words cut her to the bone.

Tessa frowned, confusion bubbling in the thoughts that were forming. She put down her makeup wipe. “It definitely isn’t the same,” she insisted, turning to look Scott in the eye. “These are all the things I would’ve done if I hadn’t been skating for twenty years.”

“Okay, I hear you.” Scott nodded, the light in his eyes dimming as his expression got more misty and farther away. “And I already told you what I would’ve done.” His voice was quiet.

Tessa was at a loss for words. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t know how to respond. Instead, she headed into the bathroom and splashed cold water onto her face. Her mind, usually full of chatter and light and business, was silent. She finished her skincare routine and returned to the bedroom. Scott was still propped up on his side of the bed, looking at her expectantly. Tessa inhaled softly as she got into bed next to him. The familiar sensation of his warm body pressed up against hers felt like everything she ever wanted and everything that could possibly make her irredeemably sad, all at the same time. “You really want to... just stay here in Ilderton and pop out a couple of kids?” She’d finally said something, and she didn’t mean to sound condescending, but from the way Scott reacted to her words, she figured she must’ve come off that way. _Shoot_.

“_Yes_.” It was Scott’s turn to be insistent. “I don’t know how many different ways I can explain it to you, Tess. That’s my normal. White picket fence on a house close to my folks. A wife and a couple of kids in a pickup truck. Playing hockey on the evenings with my buds. That’s what I want.”

Silence shook the bedroom.

“I think it’s pretty clear,” Scott said wearily as he sat himself up onto his pillows, leaning against the headboard and refusing to look at Tessa. She laid a hand on his arm, but he didn’t return the touch. “That was have different versions of what normal means.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Tessa interrupted, running her hand up his arm soothingly. Was that desperation creeping into her voice? _No, stop it_. “I love you, Scott. Enough to meet you in the middle.”

Scott turned to her. Tessa cupped his face with her hands. He leaned into her palm as she stroked his scratchy, beard-stubble cheek. Eyes half-closed, he said, “But... If I don’t meet you in the middle, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

That wasn’t what Tessa wanted to hear. She cast him a doubtful look.

“Tessa,” Scott said, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice in response to that. “Would I have skated with you for twenty years if I didn’t love you?”

“I know you love me, Scott. But I’m trying to say I’m _in_ love with you.” Tessa bit her lip. “And I thought you were in love with me too.”

Scott studied her, his eyes a storm of emotions. “I am,” he said quietly, after a brief pause.

Tessa could feel a flood of hot tears pooling in her eyes. _Don’t cry_! she ordered herself silently, but it was on use. Everything she’d been building for the past twenty years was collapsing catastrophically in front of her eyes. _Again_.

This was it. The impasse. Tessa closed her eyes, and braced herself for it.

“Will you marry me?”

Tessa’s eyes flew open. “What?”

Scott, unexpectedly enough, looked dead serious. “I’m serious, Tess,” he said. He sounded serious. _Oh God. He’s serious._ “Will you marry me?”

Tessa got up from the bed and put herself in the nearby armchair. Her knees were shaking. “You’re not kidding.”

“No, I’m not,” Scott replied, sounding weary again. “I have the ring in the car if you want me to prove it.”

“You have a _ring_?”

“Yes Tessa I wasn’t going to just _propose_ to you without a _ring_. Obviously the plan was to be a little more prepared than this but...”

Tessa gripped the sides of the armchair. “Why are you doing this?” Her voice came out in a quiet tremble.

Scott looked exasperated, but he didn’t move from his spot on their bed. “Because I love you.”

“You just said you wouldn’t meet me in the middle.”

“This _is_ meeting you in the middle, Tessa.” Scott pressed his hands to his face. “We’re getting stuck. Around and around in the same thing. Over and over. One of us had to make a choice, and I choose this. I choose _you_.” Scott sprang up from his sitting position. “Here.” He slid across the floor, arms outstretched comically, and landed in front of her and the armchair. He gently placed his hand on her trembling knee. “Alright. I’m here. I’m on one knee. Look!” He gave his best Scott grin, but Tessa didn’t laugh. “Look.” His grip on her knee tightened ever so slightly. “I’m serious about you, Tessa. Will you marry me?”

Tessa’s breathing stilled. She felt like her chest was being squeezed by a metal claw. She felt a single, traitorous tear slip down the side of her face.

“Tess?” His voice was his. As always. Warm, husky, loyalty and perseverance and passion to a fault and she could have that forever, yes, she could, she could wrap herself up in him and his love til the day she died and die happily, at that, knowing he was hers and he was his.

“No.” Tessa must’ve spoken, but she couldn’t even recognize her own voice. “I won’t. I _can’t_. I’m so sorry, Scott.”


	4. four

They tried. They really did.

The funny thing about Scott is that if he ever tried to do anything, he tried for her. He tried for her who was trying for him. It wasn’t apparent to her before, but now Tessa realized that whatever model of loyalty they’d hooked themselves onto was much more akin to a slowly sinking boat than anything else. It was hard to confront this, however, because Tessa and Scott were both people who had an equally difficult time giving up on something that involved the other.

But the realization that perhaps the ride was dying, the boat running out of steam, that perhaps they were stranded on something that was not going, that perhaps they were getting numb and unhappy with the trying... It was like a slow-acting poison, settling into their bloodstream. The mornings became less soft and gray and romantic. The nights became a myriad of silence, space, and empty conversations. The memories that kept them together faded.

Then, one night, Scott just didn’t show up.

A short _I’m okay, just need alone time_ text showed up on Tessa’s phone instead.

She clutched it to her chest, and wondered if she should call him, demand answers, ask why why why, make it known to him that she was upset.

But she wasn’t. She was tired, and sad, and trapped in a universe of optimism far away from here. She finally had to admit, quietly, that they were heading into a future where they’d be with other people.

The thought made her chest hurt and her insides nauseous but those feelings were starting to collide with the uncomfortable prickle of unhappiness that was settling into their current arrangement like ashes after a fire storm.

_I suppose we need this_, Tessa thought as she fell into their empty bed. _It’ll be good to have some time apart_.

As good as it was, she struggled to fall asleep without Scott’s warmth next to her. The bed felt foreign, cold, as if she’d been transported to someone else’s house. The headlights from a passing car flashed into their window a couple times, and Tessa would sit up wondering if it was Scott finally coming home. But it wasn’t. It was just the neighbor, or maybe a figment of her imagination.

Scott never came back after that. Of course, they saw each other at the rink everyday, cordially meeting over carefully-facilitated business lunches where they planned their next tour. They skated, they created, and enjoyed each other’s company as much as they always had.

But Scott’s things, at the bottom of Tessa’s dressers, collected dust. His shampoo and toothbrush lay quietly in her bathroom, day in and day out. Maybe he’ll come back. She didn’t dare move anything. Even his favorite mug stood on her kitchen counter top, giving her the illusion that it’ll get used again one day.

Finally, after she couldn’t stand it anymore, Tessa collected all of his things in a cardboard box, hauled it into her car, and drove up to Scott’s apartment.

“Keys,” she said to him as soon as he opened the door, trying not to break down at the sight of his bewildered face. The box clattered onto the doorstep ungraciously.

“Tess?” Scott asked.

“_Keys_!” Tessa hissed, finally angry enough to raise her voice at him. “You don’t live at my place anymore? Give me my goddamn _keys_!”

Scott, dumbfounded, fumbled in his pocket and held up the spare set of keys to her. Tessa swiped it from him, almost wishing she’d grown out her nails long enough to give him a good clawing, and stormed back to her car, slamming the door as loudly as she could possibly slam a car door, revving her engine as obnoxiously as possible as she wheeled out of his neighborhood.

Tessa moved back in with her parents after that. Temporarily, she promised them. Because the silence, the coldness of her apartment without Scott was driving her insane.

And like clockwork, Scott showed up there, one unassuming night, instead.

“What are you doing here?” Tessa practically spat at him, which was so uncharacteristic of her, and she regretted the moment the words came out of her mouth.

Scott blinked at her. If she’d hurt him, she couldn’t tell. “I think we should talk.”

Tessa felt a surge of anger shoot through her veins. “Oh really now?”

Scott sighed. “Tess—”

“I don’t think so,” Tessa snapped, reaching to slam the door in his face.

“I know,” Scott said as he stopped her hand from grabbing the doorknob. “I know.”

Tessa peered up at him, angrily, but unfortunately intrigued. Scott’s hazel eyes were intense, serious in that way that he became before competitions. It was a version of him Tessa didn’t dare to mess with, because it was the only time he couldn’t be swayed.

Tessa retreated, gently holding the door open for him as he came inside, and shut it with an anxious click.

Scott glanced at her. She glanced back. A tense moment passed between the two of them.

“Let’s sit down,” Scott said, clearing his throat. He placed a hand gently on her back to guide her to her bedroom. The house was empty, but she knew he wasn’t taking any chances.

The sensation of his palm, warm and resting on her, even for a brief second, made her pulse jump. Sure, they’d touched everyday at the rink since he’d stopped living with her, but this particular gesture pulled her back to their summer days. Soft yet firm, comforting and reassuring. The kind of touch that came from a side of Scott that the world rarely got to see.

A side of Scott that Tessa missed. Desperately.

As they sank into the white, fluffy cushions of Tessa’s loveseat (the one that Scott couldn’t stand and made fun of her every day for back when she was a teeanger), Tessa could feel the tension in the room thicken, threatening to swallow them whole.

They were each perched on the opposite side of the couch. Familiar, but so unlike them at the same time. Tessa couldn’t help but see a past version of Scott and Tessa, tangled in the middle seat, blissfully unaware of the hours of the day disappearing into the night as they lay there and enjoyed each other’s company.

_A past version of us_. Tessa swallowed back the feeling of tears forming in her throat. “Do you want some water?” she offered, trying to push the cold edge out of her voice and failing spectacularly.

“I’m alright,” Scott declined politely. “Thank you.”

Another moment of stifling silence.

“I’m sorry,” Tessa blurted out.

Scott nodded, very slightly, in response, but said nothing.

“I’m... I’m so sorry.” _Say anything else, PLEASE_. “I’m sorry I got so mad at you back there. I just...” What were the words she needed to express how she was feeling? There weren’t any. _There just aren’t enough words in the English language to tell you how sad I am that I’m wrong and you’re right but you’re also wrong and I’m right and this is all a mess. _Tessa made an irritated noise at the back of her throat, curling her fingers into a frustrated fist. She pressed her knuckles into her thigh. She couldn’t finish her thought. “I’m sorry I said no.”

“This isn’t about that, baby.”

Something about Scott’s voice and the way he said those things always made her heart sing. _NO_, Tessa reprimanded herself immediately, harshly slitting its throat. She had to keep going. “I’m upset because...” Tessa’s voice had dropped down to a whisper. “I just didn’t think that saying no to you would mean you’d just... leave me."

Scott hummed thoughtfully. He looked quietly devastated. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he murmured. “I’m sorry that I did. But...” Scott sighed, leaning his head back against the top of the couch cushion. “I needed the space,” he finished. “_We_ needed the space.”

Tessa expected him to say more, but he didn’t. It was back to silence, for just a few moments longer.

She reflected on this. _The space_. He needed to get away from her. From _them_.

Tessa didn’t know what to say.

“It was hard to think—carefully. When I was still seeing you every night,” Scott amended. “And I knew I needed to do a lot of thinking. And every time I started thinking, you’d be there.” He gestured. Tessa looked around at her bedroom. “Right there. Reading a book, eating dinner, watching TV with me... looking beautiful and happy in a way I never see you be at the rink. And every time I’d start to think otherwise, I’d see you in front of me, and I’d force myself to stop thinking.” Scott ran his fingers through his hair, tiredly. “Because how could I ruin something like what we had?”

“Well,” Tessa said pointedly. “How could you?” She tried not to glare at him, but the emotions that she’d pent up for weeks could no longer be held back. They were leaking out like wilting flower petals.

Scott pursed his lips. “I didn’t mean to,” he said softly, earnestly. “But...” He paused. “I was afraid that if I kept holding on to what we had, I’d just ruin what we had left. _Really_ ruin it, Tess. Burn everything we had to the ground til there was nothing left to salvage.”

Tessa swallowed again.

She didn’t want to admit how many times she’d had the exact same feeling, reaction, thought, experience. It was almost eerie how Scott had found the words she’d been looking for all this time.

Almost. And the reason why it wasn’t was because they’d done it to each other so many times before. Again and again. Proving to be thinking, living, feeling in the same breath.

Tessa almost smiled. How beautiful that would be, if this wasn’t turning out to be such a tragedy.

“Because at the end of the day, I wanted something I knew you couldn’t ask you for.” Scott’s voice dropped to a rumble. He knotted his fingers together so tight that Tessa could see his knuckles turning white. “And I knew... I couldn’t give you what you wanted either. And God, Tess, that just... killed me. Hurt me so much to know I was _disappointing_ you.”

Tessa furrowed her brow. “What I wanted?” she repeated. “How do you know what I wanted? Scott, what I wanted was _you_. You’d never disappointed me. Not ever.” She gave a strangled laugh of disbelief. “I had everything I wanted until you stopped being with me. What are you talking about?”

Scott shook his head. “I know you’re saying that now because we’re still riding the high of Pyeongchang. But what happens in a year, Tess? Ten years? Twenty years?”

Tessa gripped the fabric of the loveseat, unsettled. “I...” _I’ve never let myself think that far_. “I don’t know.” She frowned. “And you don’t know either.”

“But for the first time we have some ability to influence this thing we don’t know!” Scott’s gaze was imploring. “Things aren’t subjective anymore, T. We can _make choices_.”

Tessa felt her stomach twist into knots. “So what have you chosen?”

“Departure,” Scott said solemnly.

“Departure?” Tessa echoed. The word haunted her, and she wasn’t entirely sure why. She hated the way it tasted on her tongue, and the way it made her skin crawl, like a storm was brewing inside of her, threatening to unleash its destruction on her reality at any second. “What do you mean?”

Scott sighed, folding his hands into his lap. “At first I didn’t know,” he began, “but now that I’ve had some time to think about it...” He gazed up at her, his eyes serious once again. “I think we should see other people.”

Tessa swallowed. “We’ve done that, Scott,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice level. “We have this conversation every time. And we’ll see other people, and then end up right back where we started.” _With each other_, she added silently, but for some reason she couldn’t say those words out loud.

“I know,” Scott murmured, “but things are different now.”

He didn’t say anything else, but Tessa knew exactly what he meant.

She felt numb. Tessa wished she could feel something, _anything_ right then and there. Anger, sadness, distrust, betrayal, even relief would’ve been better than the awful, soul-sucking nothingness that filled her mind like static.

“And...” Tessa also wished Scott had made any indication that this was coming. “I think I’m done skating.”

This.

Tessa imagined she could’ve survived the romantic, sexual, everything-in-between breakup. It would’ve been hard, and weird, and maybe never fully okay, but she would’ve survived because they would’ve still been partners. Friends. Two people who loved to skate with each other and create with each other. A person she could escape to at the rink and just _be_ with. But this.

_This_.

“Jesus Christ, Scott, are you okay?” was the first thing Tessa could say after the initial shock of it all loosened its grip.

Scott let out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, Tessa, I’m fine. Are _you_ okay?” he returned.

“Wh—_yes I’m okay_,” Tessa insisted sharply. “What the fuck do you mean you’re done with skating? What about Rock the Rink? Scott, we have an entire _tour_ planned for next year—”

“I don’t mean right now, T. I mean in the future, I don’t think we should be skating professionally anymore,” Scott supplemented. “You know I’m never going to be done skating for real. That’s not what I meant. I’ll always be skating. But competing is something I don’t think I could ever do again. Doing shows is going to be hard when I have a family in the future. I’ll just have to be away from home all the time if we’re touring. And I don’t think I’ll want that. I... I just think it’s time to hang them up.”

_He said ‘when’. Not ‘if’. When. _Tessa struggled to find the words. “Why didn’t you ever bring this up with me before?” she asked, genuinely baffled. “Why didn’t you discuss this with me? Don’t I get an opinion?”

Scott shook his head. “This _is_ me bringing it up with you,” he said. “And of course you get an opinion. But I’ve already made up my mind.” Desperation crept into his voice. “_Please_ don’t ask me otherwise. Hearing you say no once was hard enough, don’t make me do the same to you.”

Tessa felt a surge of anger spark inside of her. “So you think just because we can’t get married at this very moment, that’s grounds for ending our partnership?” she demanded. _The only thing that’s ever mattered to us in our entire lives_? Did she have a right to even think that? To be this angry? She was usually a reasonable person. Did she really think they would be skating forever?

_Yes. Maybe_.

“Tess,” Scott said gently. _TOO gently_, in Tessa’s humble opinion, but she let him continue. “You’ll always, _always_ be my partner. And best friend. And most important person. You’re my rock. I can’t imagine living life without you. Which is why these past few weeks have been the hardest weeks of my goddamn life.”

Tessa bit her lip. “Then why are you doing this?” Her voice was barely a whimper.

“Because it’s just time,” Scott replied tiredly. So tiredly. He was tired. Was she tired? Were they both tired? Did they need to just move on? Get a fucking _life _that didn’t involve fucking each other? Tessa dug her nails into her palm to stop herself from passing out from the dizzying array of thoughts that assaulted her verge-of-a-breakdown brain. “It’s time for you to do all those things that you wanted to do. Traveling and doing fashion shows and going back to school for you.” Even in such a dire time, Scott managed to crack a smile.

“And that wife and kids and Ilderton house and pickup truck for you?” Tessa tried to do the same, and failed.

“As sorry as it sounds to you, yes. Very much so.”

“But,” Tessa began, her voice finally breaking. “When are we going to _see _each other then?”

“All the time,” Scott reassured her.

“All the time.”

“Well, as much time as we can.”

“You sound dreadfully optimistic for someone who just annihilated every relationship we could possibly have,” Tessa said scathingly.

“Tessa,” Scott sighed, exasperated. “You’re the one who didn’t want to marry _me_. But that’s not the point. You’re still my best friend. We’re still _friends_. Aren’t we?” His tone was confident, but Scott looked like he doubted what he was saying.

Tessa could feel the end of her resolve coming. None of this was right. Couldn’t they just start over? Couldn’t they just be young and in love and on top of the world with nothing to worry about again? Couldn’t the future just... disappear forever? “I don’t want to be your friend,” Tessa responded in her wavering, teary voice. “I want to be... to be...”

_More_. _Everything_. _Yours._

But she couldn’t say it. She’d be _so_ selfish to say it. He’d asked her to marry him, and she said no. Deep down, she knew she couldn’t. The bitter, heart-wrenching tears choked her into a cloud of pain and weariness, and she was lost.

That’s the thing about Scott. His words were like paintings to her, his thoughts were tangible. She could touch his imagination, and she was sure he could touch hers. The moment Scott had mentioned that white picket fence, and his future children, and all of his dreams, Tessa could see it. Every detail of the future, and feel every shred of warmth and happiness that came with it.

But it was a picture she wasn’t apart of.

She could ask for him back. And she knew—oh, she knew—that he’d say yes and never leave her side, so long as she wished it. He loved her too much, and the only way she knew it was because she felt the same way. The same roaring burning consuming _love_ that she’d suffer and climb mountains for and live and die for.

And that’s why she couldn’t ask. _I can’t ever possibly put that on him_. The guilt. The pressure. It would be _wrong_ of her to deprive him of what she wanted for him.

Because loving Scott Moir meant letting him go.

She was breaking down, and she knew it because Scott was sliding his warm, comforting body around hers and holding her tight. She heard him say he loved her, and she was sure she said it back, so why was her heart breaking and her life crumbling to sand right in front of her? But Scott held her, and it was okay. Scott was holding her. So tight that if she’d stop to think about it, she might not be able to cry, because Scott could fix it. Scott could always fix everything.

But for the first time in their lives, this was something that Scott, maybe, just could not find a way to fix.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued...


End file.
